


Duty and Destiny

by CloudCover



Category: The Two Princes (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriage, But I thought Id call it out in case you hc him as a lot younger and freaked about the ship, Character Development, Crushes, Flashbacks, Growing Up Together, Internalized Homophobia, Introspection, Kids being mean to eachother, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, POV Alternating, Percy Backstory, Percy doesn't have a canon age, Polyamory Negotiations, Rupert is about 6 months older than Percy, Slow Burn, What it means to be a real man, Xenophobia, so much character development
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27187723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudCover/pseuds/CloudCover
Summary: "Percy, I'm going into the forest. Tonight.""Rupert - don't. You'll never make it. Besides, you shouldn't even have to.""I have to try. Please. Come with me.""What?""Come with me. Please. I need you.""What? Why?""Because... I love you."Or, what would happen if Percy and Rupert were childhood friends who fell in love with each other before Rupert left for the forest, but Rupert realizes that the only way to break the curse is to marry another man?Cue the ANGSTUpdates on Saturdays.
Relationships: Amir/Rupert (Two Princes Podcast), Percy Jr/Rupert (Two Princes Podcast)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 20





	1. The Cave

**Author's Note:**

> Boy, do I have a story to tell you. There will be love, loss, choices made for the right reasons, choices made for the wrong reasons, misconceptions, misunderstandings, regrets, and ultimately: growth.  
> So strap in ladies, gentlemen, and nongenderbinarians - it's going to be a bumpy ride.
> 
> Loosely inspired by [this Tumblr post](https://callmefitz.tumblr.com/post/626485714082758656/go-tonight-two-princes-au) (but don't worry, no one's going to die)
> 
> Some of the dialogue was taken straight from the podcast, and all of that belongs to Kevin Christopher Snipes, Gimlet Media and Spotify. But the rest is mine :)
> 
> Thank you to my sister for being my beta reader and for putting up with me talking about this Non Stop.

The Forest - Present Day

Amir poked at the fire and looked out at the storm raging just beyond the cave entrance. Another thunderclap rolled across the dark, cold, rain-drenched landscape. Despite his weary bones and aching muscles from weeks wandering around in this forsaken forest, it was nice to be reminded that at least he wasn’t outside getting drenched in _that_. Despite not having so much of the luxury that he was accustomed to, despite not even having everything that he had brought with him _into_ the forest (darn it Adolphus! Why did his horse have to run off with half of his rations and the _map_ of all things), at least he still had his sword, his wits, and his matches. Those precious sticks of fire-lighting beauty.

“Wow, it’s really coming down. Good thing I’m an _amazing_ guide and led us right to this _awesome_ cave!”

Amir sighed and rolled his eyes. Oh yeah, he guessed in a manner of speaking he had picked something up along the way, hadn’t he? Now he had this weird, annoying thief acting as his guide.

The thief huffed from his side of the fire. “Okay let me guess, we’re doing the whole ‘no talking’ thing again? Amir, my friend, you might have been trained to be a great prince, but you are a _lousy_ travel companion.”

Amir stared resolutely at the flames. He had been pretty quiet, hadn’t he? He had never really been one for idle banter, but maybe he was still getting used to having another person around. If there was one thing Amir hadn’t accounted for before he left for the forest, it was how much time he would spend all alone. But here he was, he had spent the last three and a half weeks without talking to another living soul. He had never had so much time to himself before. So much time just to think. The forest was a tricky place, always keeping him on his toes, but at times he would go days without facing a trap or a foe. In all of the last 17 years of his life he had barely had a single hour of un-scheduled time, now he had been faced with endless days of… walking. Walking and stewing.

For all his rigorous training and meticulous planning, he had never envisioned a scenario where he would be without his horse or at the very least his map. Stupid! His mother was right, he needed to do better, be better, try harder. So what if the dense trees blocked out most of the stars he used to navigate? So what if the forest itself seemed to change every time his back was turned? Those were just excuses. He should have planned better. He should have paid more attention in his geography and navigation lessons or… something!

Now Amir was dependent on this strange thief to be his guide. He hated being dependent on anyone. But what option did he have?

Amir looked across the fire where the thief was tossing pine needles into the flames one at a time and watching them fizzle, jumping a bit each time they made a popping sound. He wondered, not for the first time, whether the thief actually did live in the forest. He seemed to lack the basic survival skills necessary for even a few days in these woods. And although he seemed adept at navigating the terrain, Amir thought the thief’s prowess at leading them to this shelter (and hopefully to the Hollow) had less to do with his innate abilities as a guide and more to do with the map he kept in his vest.

No doubt the map was also stolen from whatever member of the royal family that he had taken the sword. Amir wasn’t going to call him on it. He could tell that there was a lot the thief was hiding about himself, but at the moment he was the only option Amir had of getting to the Hollow before his 18th birthday. Unless he wanted to steal the map off the guy and ditch him. But that would make him no better than the thief himself, and the moment he lost his principles was the moment he had lost his way and could no longer call himself a prince.

And who was he if he wasn’t a prince? Who was he without his title, his station in life? It was hard to contemplate. Who was Amir? Not the boy who’d spent every waking minute of his life preparing to survive in this place. Not the boy whose shoulders had always borne the weight of the prophecy. Not the boy who carried an entire kingdom’s hopes and dreams with him into this cursed forest.

Even if he ever did figure out who “Amir” was, did it matter? As soon as he broke this curse, the rest of his entire life was planned out for him. Even who he was supposed to spend it with. His thoughts shifted to long dark hair, a flowing silk scarf of bright mustard yellow, brown eyes shimmering playfully... He had to stop himself. Knowing who he would one day marry had given him extra time and energy to put toward his training – time and energy that he didn’t plan on wasting.

Amir let out a frustrated sigh and threw another log onto the fire. So, his original plan had not gone as intended. The whole point of heading into the forest a full month before his 18th birthday was to get to the hollow early and gain an advantage over the Western Prince. He wasn’t going to have time to ambush him or lay some sort of trap now. What he needed was more information about the other prince. Something he could use to his advantage in the fight to come. The thief had said he wasn’t working for the royal family, but he clearly had spent time close to them in order to steal the sword and the map. And just being a Westerner in general he must have _some_ information about him. Anything would be more than what Amir had, all he knew was that they shared a birthday.

Amir made up his mind. Even though asking the thief about the prince would divulge even more information about himself and his quest, it seemed like a relatively harmless thing to do. He still didn’t trust the guy, but the thief had surprised him earlier by keeping his promise: he hadn’t run off with Amir’s gear the first chance he got. Maybe he could prove to be more of an asset to Amir’s quest.

“Tell me about the royal family.” Amir’s voice was creaky from disuse.

“What?” The thief asked, looking up from where he was sifting through the dirt at his feet, looking for more pine needles to toss into the fire.

Amir wondered if this was a fool’s errand. Time and time again the thief had shown that he was practically useless, why would this be any different? He tried again. “The royal family of the West: what are they like?”

“Well, well, well. Look who suddenly wants to have a conversation!” The thief’s smug grin was almost unbearable.

“Never mind.” Amir muttered, giving the fire another irritated poke.

“No no no! I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you.” The thief sat up a little straighter, dusting his hands off. Amir tried not to show just how intently he was now listening. The thief got a strange far-away look on his face before he started. “Okay, so first there’s the Queen, Queen Lavina. Totally means well, but she’s a bit of a control freak. Really likes to get her way. Also—”

“And the prince?” Amir cut in, kicking himself immediately as his eagerness got the better of him. He didn’t want the thief to know how important the other prince was to his mission.

The thief looked startled. “Prince Rupert?”

Amir shrugged. Trying to act somewhat uninterested to make up for his earlier zeal.

“Oh, well I’m only reporting what I’ve heard, of course.” The thief started to fidget with the small stones by his feet. “But he seems like a pretty great guy.”

Amir was surprised. From everything he had heard about the Western kingdom, he had assumed their citizens would not look kindly on the royals. Their greed was infamous in the Eastern kingdom. Stories were told of the poor Western citizens who would slave away only for the lords to come and take what they had worked so hard for. And while the commoners lived in squalor, the elites threw lavish parties. This was the story that the thief himself had all but verified when he told Amir that he was working against the royals by stealing from them to give back to the hard-working people of the land.

“Really?” Amir asked, skeptical but intrigued nonetheless.

“Oh yeah, he’s smart, funny, adventurous, brave (obviously), witty, fast, tall…” As the thief chattered away, Amir found that he was a little confused. Even though the thief was actively working against the royal family he didn’t seem discontent with the prince at all. In fact, his face brightened as he began to recount the prince’s many positive qualities – perhaps he was different than the rest? However, none of this was the sort of information Amir was hoping the thief would have on him. Nothing about what weaponry he was proficient with or how he had been training to try to fulfill the prophecy. Amir realized that the thief was still talking when his voice suddenly turned soft. “… oh and he’s, uh… well, this is what I’ve heard anyway… Is that the prince is in love.”

Huh, well this last tidbit of information seemed to be useless but could actually prove useful. If the other prince had a girlfriend, or better yet a fiancé, who he actually loved waiting for him back home it might make him desperate to get back to her. And desperate people always make mistakes. The trick was figuring out how to take advantage of those mistakes, but now that Amir knew what to look for he might just have a chance.

As Amir thought about different fighting styles that might work well against an adversary who was tall and who was also fighting for someone he loved (not just for a just and noble cause like Amir himself was) he noticed that the thief had fallen into an uncharacteristic silence. What could he be thinking about as he gazed out at the storm? Not that Amir cared, he tried to remind himself.

* * *

Thunder rolled in the distance. Rupert closed his eyes, letting the deep sound wash over him as Amir lapsed back into silence on the other side of the fire. He loved storms. They always made Rupert think of _him_. It was funny, he realized, that the reason he loved storms so much was precisely because _he_ was afraid of them. Every time it stormed back in the West, every time there was even a _threat_ of thunder or lightning, he would climb in through Rupert’s window and they would spend the day together, making forts, reading books, talking, making each other laugh. Those were Rupert’s favorite days.

Rupert looked over at Amir where he was prodding the fire with a stick. Amir was arrogant and full of himself, and while at times it was annoying, most of the time Rupert felt endeared by it. It reminded him of a certain other boy who could be arrogant and cocky, but who was also sweet and kind. Rupert touched his lips, where barely 24 hours earlier they had touched someone else’s.

It was nice to have a companion on this journey. But still, Rupert wished he were out here with someone else. With the boy he loved.

With Percy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuunnnn! And so it begins.
> 
> In the next chapter we'll travel back in time 4.5 years and meet Percy Jr.
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this chapter! All comments and criticism are welcome!


	2. Knight in Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy Jr's first day of knight training is not without it's dramatic moments.  
> This is Percy Jr after all.

The West - 4.5 years ago

“You got a problem with that? Well I’ve got a problem with… I’ll show YOU what’s going to be a problem… Well, no one’s a bigger problem than… Uhg!” Junior scrubbed his hands over his face in frustration and peeked back at the mirror through his fingers. Perfecting his comebacks was not going well, and he needed _something_ to throw at the other boys when the teasing started today. Like he knew it would. Like it always did.

It wasn’t Junior’s fault that he didn’t fit in, it came with the territory. Being the son of Sir Percy the Brave (the greatest knight to ever defend the realm) automatically put a target on his back. It wasn’t his fault that he was naturally _way_ better than everyone. Well, at least he _assumed_ he would be better. He had just turned 13 and today was his first day of knight training. He couldn’t wait to get started, to follow in his father’s footsteps and to prove to everyone that he was a Percy through-and-through.

He just wished he _looked_ a bit more like a Percy already. He set his jaw and drew back his shoulders, looking into the mirror with the sternest face he could muster. He was getting there, but still had a ways to go. Junior loved going back through old portraits of the Sirs Percy who had come before and seeing bits of himself reflected back at him. His father and the men of their family were all fit and lean, with sharp cheekbones, angular brown eyes, light brown skin, and thick straight black hair usually worn long. Sure, they tended to be shorter than most of the other men in the kingdom, but they made up for it with their formidable presence. Presence, Junior could work on. He squished his pudgy cheeks. Other things he would just have to wait for. Like long hair.

Junior ran his hand through his frustratingly short hair. He had started to grow it out and he knew that it would invite more teasing today. It was at an awkward length right now; it was not quite long enough to weigh itself down and lay flat, instead it was bristly and stuck straight out all over his head. He looked like a giant pom-pom. His dad had insisted he keep it shaved for most of his childhood, but now that Junior was 13 and no longer a child he got to say what he wanted, and had decided that he’d like to grow it out. He’d just have to make it through this awkward intermediate stage.

Junior narrowed his eyes in the mirror, practicing another serious glare. He cleared his throat and puffed out his chest, imagining he was facing down the biggest toughest bully. “You got a problem with that? Well then you’re going to have a problem with-”

The face of Sir Percy appeared in the mirror over his shoulder and Junior cut himself off, a blush spreading across his tan cheeks.

“Junior. I trust you’re prepared to make me proud out there today?” His father said simply, choosing to ignore the theatrics he had caught Junior practicing, again.

Junior grinned. “Of course, father.”

“You’re the last of the Percy’s, you know. It’s up to you to carry on our long proud legacy. Today is just the first step towards fulfilling your destiny.”

“I know father. I’m ready.”

“Good. It’s time.” His father smiled fondly and squeezed Junior’s shoulder before turning to head out the door.

Junior followed behind his father, reminding himself to walk tall as they wound their way through the training grounds filled with men practicing various weapons and fighting styles. One day he would know it all but looking at the big grizzled men fighting around him, he couldn’t help but feel small and out of place.

They reached a medium-sized training yard with several other 13-year-old boys standing about in a group. Upon spotting Junior, they turned their attention toward him and started whispering to each other behind their hands. Junior raised his nose and pretended not to notice.

“Ah, Sir Douglass.” Sir Percy greeted a man who couldn’t have been too much older than himself standing just outside the small fence of the yard. “So, you have the honor of teaching these brats today I see?”

“Aye, Sir Percy, that I do.” Sir Douglass smiled, metal glinting from his mouth where a tooth had been replaced.

“Well then I trust that you won’t go easy on my Junior here.” Sir Percy clapped his hand on Junior’s shoulder. Junior noticed the other boys had started snickering. “I’m sure it won’t take long for you to see he has a natural talent and will progress quickly. He is a _Percy_ after all. Make sure to keep him challenged.”

“That I will Sir Percy, don’t you worry.” Sir Douglass’ eyes flicked to Junior before giving a salute as Sir Percy took his leave.

Junior tentatively stepped over the small fence, unsure whether he should join the other boys or keep his distance. Now that his father had left, the boys had no problem calling out their insults more audibly.

“Oooh watch out for Junior! He’s so big and tough!”

“I’d watch out for his big head if I were you! You might get impaled on his hair!”

“What’d you do to your hair anyway Junior? You trying to make yourself look taller with all that? We all know you’re a shrimp.”

“His head’s so big now! He looks even more like a baby!”

“Awwe! Wittle baby Junior! He’s so cute!”

Junior crossed his arms and stared the boys down, willing himself to shove the tears back and look strong. If he _looked_ strong then he would _feel_ strong. He _was_ strong. He was a Percy and he didn’t have to stand for this kind of treatment.

“I’ll have you know that my father-”

“Alright boys settle down.” Sir Douglass interrupted. Junior wasn’t sure if he was embarrassed or relieved to be cut off – so much for all that practicing in front of the mirror. “Line up along the back wall. Is this everyone?”

“Not quite Sir!”

Junior turned to see one more boy running up to the fence and jumping over. The boy wore an excited grin but looked completely out of place. His clothes were ill fitting – his pants were too small, but he was swimming in a too-big tunic – but the most notable thing about him was the eye-patch that covered his left eye, the strap cutting awkwardly through his mop of auburn hair. Who was this boy? Percy had certainly never seen him around. How could he possibly train to be a knight with a missing eye?

Sir Douglass appeared to be equally confused. “What’s your name son, who’s your father?”

The boy stopped short. His face, which had been filled with a sort of hopeful joy, now looked fearful and panicked. “Uh, my name is… Fitzroy Sir! And my father… uh… well, his name was… Sir Broadshoulders Sir! He uh… he died a while ago… bandits you know, it’s how I lost my eye… but he always wanted me to be a knight, so here I am!”

“Huh.” Sir Douglass seemed dubious but apparently decided not to press the issue. “Well, go line up with the others then.”

The boy – Fitzroy – jumped gleefully and ran to the back wall. He found a spot for himself at the end of the line, right next to Junior - of course. Junior did his best to ignore him, the last thing he needed was to be associated with a weirdo like this kid. But Fitzroy clearly had other plans.

As Sir Douglass started into what was clearly a speech he’d given many times about what it took to be a knight (about honor, and duty, and the long years of training ahead of them), Fitzroy turned towards Junior and stuck out his hand. “Hi! I’m Fitzroy!” he whispered loudly.

Junior rolled his eyes and looked staunchly ahead, but Fitzroy’s enthusiasm was too much. He just couldn’t ignore him. Junior finally huffed. “I know. We all heard.”

Fitzroy took his hand back and ran it awkwardly through his hair. “Haha, oh yeah. Well you can call me Fitz if you want! What’s your name? Are you excited to become a knight? I am _so_ excited! There’s so much to learn!” As he spoke, Fitzroy’s whisper grew louder and louder until Sir Douglass stopped his speech to throw a nasty glare at him and Junior. Junior could hear the boys on his other side take up their snickering again while he felt Fitzroy deflate.

Junior stubbornly kept his eyes forward. He wanted to ignore Fitzroy, he really did. He could tell that if he played his cards right he could get the other boys to start picking on this strange one-eyed newcomer instead of him. He could finally be a part of their group instead of regaining his position from primary-school as the one always being teased. It was difficult. For whatever reason he felt bad for Fitzroy, he didn’t want him to suffer the same way he had suffered.

If you asked him later, he wouldn’t be able to tell you why he did it, but Junior made up his mind in that moment. He turned slightly to look at Fitzroy and stuck out his hand. “I’m Percy.”

Fitzroy looked down at Percy’s hand in amazement, then up into his face. Percy saw that his one good eye was a startling shade of deep blue-green. Fitzroy broke out into a wide smile and clasped the outstretched hand. His hand was surprisingly soft. Percy swallowed.

It was then that a shriek pierced the air of the training grounds. Fitzroy jumped and shrank back. Percy looked around to see none other than Queen Lavinia herself standing outside the fence flanked by several royal guards and, of course, his father.

“Rupert!” she cried. “What in the name of Merlin do you think you’re doing? And just _what_ are you wearing? Take that ridiculous eye patch off this instant and come here!”

Percy looked around in confusion. Rupert was the name of the prince, Queen Lavinia’s only son, surely this strange boy in his strange clothes with his one eye couldn’t be His Royal Highness Prince Rupert the First. Could he?

Fitzroy stepped forward and took off his eye-patch. Everyone gasped as the disguise was cast away and they all recognized their prince standing amongst them. He stared defiantly at his mother with both of his perfectly functional eyes. “No mother. I’m 13 now. I’ve been 13 for months! I want to train. I should know how to fight.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Rupert, you shall do no such thing. Now come _here._ ” Lavinia stamped her foot.

“No.” Rupert didn’t budge.

Lavinia sighed in exasperation. “Sir Percy, did your son have something to do with this? I saw them talking to each other.”

“Of course not Your Majesty.” Percy’s blood ran cold as his father turned to glare at him. But that couldn’t be right – his father would never _glare_ at him.

Lavinia flicked her hand over her shoulder towards her son indifferently as she turned to walk away. “Guards: seize the prince and take him back to his chambers at once.”

Rupert widened his stance and balled his fists as two guards stepped over the fence and approached him. “You can’t do this mother! I’m not a child anymore!”

Lavinia paused and looked back over her shoulder. “You’re right, you’re not a child anymore. Guards: feel free to use _any means necessary_ to ensure that the prince makes it back to his chambers and _remains_ there.”

Percy watched in shock as the guards grabbed Rupert. When the prince tried to wriggle free of their grasp, one guard took out a length of rope and caught his wrists in it. Rupert gasped and looked down in disbelief at his bound hands. The guards took advantage of the momentary pause in his struggle to march him off and away.

Before they made it around the corner, Rupert looked back to where Percy stood rooted to the spot. His face was an apologetic mixture of sadness and resignation. Dark brown eyes locked with the deep blue-green and Percy swallowed again as the prince finally disappeared from view.

Percy looked back to the place where his father had been standing to find that he had also gone – presumably with the Queen. Was his father mad at him? Was he in trouble? Impossible. He had done nothing wrong. All the same, _why_ did he have to shake hands with that boy? The Prince. Percy ran his hands down the front of his tunic – why were his palms so sweaty?

He snapped back to the present when he realized there was a hubbub erupting around him. The other boys were all talking about the prince, not caring to be subtle, while Sir Douglass talked to one of the guards who had taken a moment to stay behind.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“I heard he’s sick or something.”

“I heard there’s something wrong with him – like in the _head._ ”

Percy saw his opportunity and jumped on it. “He must be weak because he doesn’t have a father – he doesn’t know how to be a _real_ man.”

As soon as he said it he felt sick to his stomach, but the other boys laughed and moved to include him in their circle. They continued to speculate on why the prince was always kept away from the rest of them. He tried to feel happy that he had finally gained access to this group as they laughed and made fun of Prince Rupert until Sir Douglass broke them up to start their training, but the knot in his stomach didn’t ease. There was something wrong about this whole situation.

* * *

Percy flopped onto his bed. It had been an exhausting first day, and he had approximately one bajillion more to go. After the chaotic episode with the prince in the morning they had moved on and Percy had begun to find his place within the group of boys with whom he would be training for the next 5 years and eventually serving with as knights. It was important to form good relationships with them early.

He could already tell that while he may not be as physically strong as the other boys (something that he intended to work on), he was certainly smarter than all of them combined. Percy thought that it was obvious that he should be their leader. But first he needed to earn their respect. Participating in their verbal-bashing of the prince had been a good first step, his way in the door, but he knew there would be more tests to pass before they would follow him unquestionably.

Is that what he wanted? His father was always telling him that he was made for greatness. That he would be a powerful leader one day. Is this what he meant? Putting other people down in order to lift himself up?

Well, what choice did he have? How could he live up to his great and glorious destiny as a Percy if the other boys saw fit only to tease and bully him?

Even so, thoughts of the strange prince haunted him, and now that he was able to actually relax and think about the events of the day he found himself circling back to those eyes that had seemed so happy and hopeful one moment and so sad and resigned the next. To that soft hand gripping his so earnestly.

He realized that he was staring reverently at the hand that had shook the prince’s mere hours ago and mentally slapped himself. He didn’t have time for… whatever this was! He had his destiny to think of!

And speaking of his destiny… he heard the door slam as his father came in. Percy jumped up and went to greet the older man, excited to be told just how well he had been doing and how proud he was making his father, but at the sight of Sir Percy’s face, Percy Jr. stopped short.

“Sit down son.” Sir Percy’s eyes were cold, and his face betrayed none of the warmth and pride that it usually did when he looked upon his son.

“Father.” Percy began placatingly, despite the fact that he had no idea what was upsetting his father. “Whatever it is. It’s not my fault, okay? Whoever told you is obviously _lying_.” Percy scrambled to think of what could have gone wrong as he sat in one of the wooden chairs in their living area.

Sir Percy clasped his hands behind his back and strode calmly to the window, looking out uninterestedly. “You embarrassed me today.”

“Father – what? I…”

“You embarrassed me in front of our queen.”

Percy’s jaw dropped. Prince Rupert. This had to be about him. Percy flexed his right hand, remembering the handshake that the Queen had clearly seen. His father too, by the sound of it. But what was so bad about a little handshake?

“Oh, well that. Hah! It’s really a very funny story actually.” Percy chuckled dismissively.

Sir Percy turned on his heel and stared intensely down at Percy. “I don’t want you fraternizing with the Prince. Understand? You have your training to focus on. He is of no use to you.”

“Fine! Whatever! Got it! It’s not like he’s going to be training with us anymore. Haha!” Percy’s mirthful snicker died in his throat as the image of rope being twisted around the other boy’s wrists sprang into his mind. “Sooo… What’s up with him anyway? I would think learning how to fight would be one of his ‘Princely Duties’ or something. Why doesn’t the Queen want him training?”

“Never mind about that. The Queen made her decision.” Sir Percy turned back to the window. “And if you ask me, she made the right one.” He added darkly.

“Ooookay...” This was by far the strangest conversation he had ever had with his father, and Percy was aching to get back to normal topics. Namely: him and how great he was. “So, did Sir Douglass tell you how I did today at training?”

Sir Percy sighed and the tension left his shoulders before he turned back around. Percy was relieved to see the smile that his dad reserved just for him, even if it looked a little strained. “He told me that you’re finally getting along with the other boys. That’s excellent son, soon they’ll see what an exceptional leader you are and you’ll have them eating out of the palm of your hand.”

His father’s choice of words gave him pause for a moment, but Percy decided to ignore the twinge in his stomach. “You know, that’s exactly what I thought as well.”

Sir Percy smiled. “You’ll make me proud, son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think of this chapter? I hope you like little 13 year old Percy Jr!  
> (Also how could I not with Sir Broadshoulders - best named character in the universe. Now that we know he's a character from Western romance novels - do you think Rupert may have stumbled upon some accidentally and filed the name away? Whoops!)
> 
> The next chapter Percy gets some more duties as a Knight-in-Training, but it can be hard when you're distracted. 
> 
> All comments and criticism is welcome :)


	3. Castle Guard Snoop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy notices Rupert in the library and is definitely NOT obsessing over him. Nope.

The West - 4 years ago

Percy blew a strand of hair out of his eyes. His hair was getting longer now, but it still wasn’t long enough to tie-back. His father had scoffed at his idea of pushing it back with a headband or a clip (apparently it was not a “manly” look) so letting it fall in his face was his only option for the moment. It may get in his way now, but at least it wasn’t sticking out anymore.

It wasn’t obvious at first, but Percy could tell that his father had been growing less and less patient with him over these past few months. It was becoming clear that the son of Sir Percy the Bold was not, in fact, a natural with most of the weapons they had started training with, but he kept working as hard as he could and his father had at least commended him for his effort. Percy wanted to show his dad that he could be as good as he always said he would be. He told himself that soon his hard work would pay off and his dad would dote on him again. Soon. He just had to keep working.

Percy leaped over the small fence at the training yard and strutted over to the group of other boys. He was hesitant to call them his “friends”. The more time he spent with them the more he realized how boring and dull they were, but in the last few months he had made a place for himself amongst them as the lead-prankster. Just last week he had initiated a prank against one of the other boys – Anson. They had all covered their noses and asked “what that smell was” every time Anson walked by, asking him if he had stepped in cow dung or something. Anson spent the entire day hilariously checking the bottom of his boots while the other boys snickered behind their hands. One of the bigger boys, Marcus, had wanted to trick Anson into stepping in _actual_ cow-dung and Percy had to explain that if they did that then the subtlety of the joke would be lost. Plus, if Anson had found _actual_ cow dung on his shoes, he would simply wash it off and move on and not spend the whole day feeling self-conscious – which of course was the whole point of the joke. None of them had really understood when Percy explained all that to them, but they followed along anyway.

The group welcomed him as he walked up and wanted to know if he had thought of a new prank to pull yet. Percy assured them that he was working on a good one and felt a little nervous at the thought of what would happen if he couldn’t think of a new one soon enough. Would he lose his place in the group? Well, if they did start to turn on him, he could always remind them who his father was and maybe ask his dad to walk by threateningly at some point during the day. His dad would do that if he asked… wouldn’t he?

“Alright settle down lads.” Sir Douglass had entered the training ground and the boys scurried to line up in front of him. “Today we’re going to take a break from sword training to talk about one of the first jobs you’ll have as knights-in-training: castle guard duty.”

Percy scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I really don’t see why we need guards _inside_ the castle – wouldn’t a knight’s time be better served guarding along the walls _outside_ the castle? Surely if there’s an attack from a barbarous Eastern horde we could stop it more easily from there?”

The other boys murmured in agreement – they had never thought of that before. It seemed to make sense.

Sir Douglass cleared his throat to re-gain their attention. “Ah, but what you forget, Percy, is how devious these Easterners can be. They’ve been known to use simple disguises to get spies into the castle. You never know when one of these secret agents will attack from the inside! No, castle guard duty is a _very_ important job.”

“Which is why you give it to the _junior_ knights… I see.” Percy quipped sarcastically.

Sir Douglass ignored his tone. “Yes, as a knight-in-training you will each be partnered with an older junior knight and the two of you will roam the corridors of the castle, keeping an ear and an eye out for any trouble. If trouble should occur – and let me remind you that it could occur at _any_ _moment_ –“ Percy rolled his eyes “you and your partner will split up and alert the more senior knights posted around the castle and grounds. In order to do your job well, you need to know the layout of the castle like the back of your hand. So today we will be taking a tour.”

Percy sighed. “Do we _all_ have to? I already know my way around the castle since my dad _is_ the Knight Champion and all.”

Sir Douglass gritted his teeth. “Yes, Percy, we will all go together.”

* * *

The noise from the group of rowdy 13 and 14-year-old boys bounced harshly off the stone walls of the corridors as they made their way through the castle. Percy kept to the back of the group as they passed dining halls and audience chambers and small meeting rooms and large meeting rooms... This was really a waste of his time. Time that he could be spending practicing his swordsmanship.

Percy noticed a small scuffle had erupted in the middle of the pack. Apparently, Marcus had swiped a plate of sweets from the kitchens that they had just left and the other boys were jockeying each other to get their hands on one without alerting Sir Douglass.

Percy scoffed. “You trying out for Royal Poison Checker Marcus?”

Marcus turned back to Percy, smiling mouth dusted with powdered sugar. “I’d take it. Doubt any of those nasty Easterners would be able to actually poison anything after taking one step into one of _our_ kitchens. I heard they’re all starved from eating rotten horse meat over there. They’d forget about the poison and just start gorging themselves!”

“I heard that they control everything over there – everyone has to eat the same food and wear the same clothes.” Offered one of the other boys.

Everyone got caught up in swapping the horror stories about the East that they grew up hearing from their parents and grandparents.

“I heard that too.” Someone chimed in. “They can’t even choose what jobs they can do. The crown comes around and picks your life out for you when you’re just a little baby.”

“I heard they do experiments on babies.”

“I heard they EAT babies!”

“Gross.”

“I’ll give them my little brother.”

“Your mother should have given them YOU!”

“Easterners are monsters.” Percy said seriously, and everyone sobered. “My father told me all about them from when he was fighting in the war against them. If you ever meet an Easterner, you should always kill them on sight before they try to get into your head. They’re not to be trusted at any cost.”

* * *

When Percy imagined what his older, wiser, junior knight castle-guard partner would be like, Gordo was not what he had in mind. He was hoping for someone who could be his mentor, someone who had just undergone the same training that he was doing now and could help him. Someone a little older than the boys he’d been hanging out with but not as old as the knights who were teaching them. Someone he could look up to, ask questions of, and discuss things with without being shunned or teased. Someone mature that he could actually see as a friend.

Gordo was not that. Gordo was just like the boys he spent every day with except he was bigger, dumber, and just plain... quiet.

At first Percy thought that maybe he said so little because underneath his hulking exterior there was some hitherto-unplumbed depths of thought churning, waiting for the right moment to present itself. But no. The longer he spent with Gordo, the more he realized there was just nothing going on in there. A hamster would make a more intelligent and interesting partner.

Percy sighed. If taking half of every day away from his training to do castle-guard duty had felt like a waste before, it certainly felt like one now. He knew he needed all the sword practice he could get if he wanted to get back into his dad’s good graces. However, lumbering around the castle halls with this oaf was the opposite of using his time productively.

The only remotely engaging thing that he got to do during their hours of shuffling around the castle was to try to come up with increasingly random ways of navigating the corridors. They were advised to make sure their route was unpredictable, and as the more senior of the two of them technically it was Gordo’s job to plan their route. But Gordo had the creativity of a garden slug and all it took was for Percy to simply turn a corner without him for Gordo to start following _him_ instead.

It wasn’t until the third day of castle-guard duty that Percy happened to look in through the open library doors when they passed by. The library was not usually a place that you would find a knight in training. Book-learning was viewed as something that only men who couldn’t do something useful like fight and defend their kingdom would do. Or (as the boys in the training ground would no doubt say) “only sissies who were too weak to hold a sword would be caught in there.” Percy had always been fascinated by the library and all the knowledge that it held, but had never wanted to give his dad or anyone else reason to doubt his worth as a future knight of the realm by actually going in.

As they walked past the large oak double-doors he looked in surreptitiously. Bookshelves filled two floors with a large space in the middle set with tables for people to study. In the last moment before they moved past entirely, Percy’s gaze was caught by a familiar mop of auburn hair bent over a scattering of books at one of the tables.

Could that have been the Prince? Surly the Prince would have better things to do than read books! But it really did look like him, Percy thought.

Percy tried to convince himself that he didn’t care if it was or wasn’t the Prince. One way or the other what did it matter? The Prince was no concern of his. At the same time though, Percy found himself guiding the little duo back past the library less than half an hour later.

This time, Percy was ready and got a better look at the boy sitting alone at the table surrounded by books. This time, he was able to see clearly: It was the same boy who had caused the stir in the training grounds months ago. The same boy who had eagerly shaken his hand and introduced himself as “Fitz”. The same boy whose strangeness had given Percy the opportunity to finally claim a spot amongst a group of his peers. Prince Rupert.

Percy didn’t lead them back past the library again that day, but the old questions resurfaced: Why wasn’t the prince allowed to train to fight and defend his kingdom? Why had those guards led him away like some sort of wild animal? Why was he kept away from everyone? Why was Percy’s dad so adamant that he not interact with him? Who _was_ Rupert?

As he started his rounds with Gordo the next day, Percy wasted no time in leading them past the library. He peeked in as they walked by and sure enough - Rupert was there again. Percy started to wonder even more. Does he spend every day there? Doesn’t he have anything better to do? Shouldn’t there be tutors or someone there teaching him if he’s studying instead of fighting?

Every time they passed the library that day, Percy looked in through the doors and saw Rupert sitting there studying. Sometimes reading, sometimes searching through the books in front of him, sometimes scribbling on a piece of paper, sometimes he wasn’t there but Percy could tell from the things left behind that he had only gotten up for a moment and would return. It was on their last round, Percy slowing his gate just a bit to get a good look inside, that Rupert looked up and noticed Percy.

Rupert’s face was puzzled, as if he were trying to figure out who this random guard was that kept looking at him. Percy thought his expression may have flashed to recognition at the last moment, but Percy had already turned away and hurried along with Gordo trailing behind.

The next day, Percy told himself he wasn’t going to look. But every time they passed the library he did. And every time Rupert was looking back. Of course, Gordo shuffled along next to him, unaware of the inner turmoil that Percy was experiencing. At first Percy wrote off the thrill that went through him when he saw Rupert looking back as embarrassment – he’d been caught staring at the prince for no good reason, and he still felt kind of bad for helping the other boys make fun of Rupert a while back; even through Rupert wasn’t there to hear it, he felt ashamed. Soon though, he started to delight in that little thrill. Especially when Rupert’s confused expression turned to amusement when he saw Percy blush and look away.

When their shift was finally over, and he was heading back to the training grounds, he shook himself. What was he playing at? It was stupid. He had no reason to be obsessing over the Prince and his library habits. No reason to let Rupert get into his head. No reason to relish in the feeling he got when the Prince’s eyes met his... Percy mentally slapped himself to banish the image and the corresponding feeling of confused delight. Besides, his father had strictly forbade him from interacting with the Prince, and what he really wanted, more than anything right now, was for his father to approve of him again. He shouldn’t be thinking about some weak, crazy prince who did nothing but laze about reading books all day. He had things to do. A destiny to fulfill. He was a _Percy_ for Merlin’s sake.

The next day, his last of castle-guard duty for a few days, Percy was determined not to pay any attention to whatever members of the royal family may or may not be sitting at that same table in the library. Nope. No sir. He led himself and Gordo along on a path through the castle that passed the library a minimum of times, and each time they did he patted himself on the back for not even glancing through the doors.

On their last round through the library corridor Percy walked resolutely, eyes forward, gait steady. As they passed the doors he let out a breath, silently congratulating himself on keeping the dumb Prince out of his head the whole day. Never mind that he had been _thinking_ about him all day, but the fact that he didn’t turn to catch a glimpse of him proved that he wasn’t _obsessed_ with the prince. Obviously.

I mean, it’s not like Percy found the whole Prince mystery fascinating at all. It’s not like he still thought about his blue-green eyes and the way they sparkled when he had shook Percy’s hand that fateful morning. It’s not like he noticed the prince pushing his wavy auburn hair behind his ear the other day and started imagining how soft that hair must be. It’s not like Percy secretly though that the prince would probably make a much more interesting friend than the brutes he usually spent his days with. I mean, please, Percy _definitely_ wasn’t thinking any of those things – don’t be ridiculous.

Just then, as Percy was inwardly scoffing at himself, something hit him in the back of the knees and sent him flying face-first into the ground. Percy scrambled to turn himself around, to face his attacker, as slow-shuffling Gordo surprised him by turning on a dime and drawing his sword in one swift movement. Gordo quickly sheathed his weapon though, as Percy’s would-be assassin started licking his face.

“Puppy!” Gordo cried and got down on his knees to pet the excited black and white dog who had run head-long into Percy’s legs. “Daw! It’s the puppy from the library! I was hoping we’d get to meet you boy! Who’s a good puppy? Yes, you are!”

Percy, still on the ground, scootched away from the pair in confusion and surprise. It was the most he’d heard out of Gordo’s mouth all week. And what did he mean “the library puppy”? Had this dog been in the library all this time and Percy just hadn’t noticed him because he was too busy gawking at the --

“Ahem. Uh, hi?”

A timid voice startled both guards. Percy looked up to see none other than Prince Rupert himself standing just a few feet away from them. The happy dog, who had been thoroughly enjoying Gordo’s pets and baby talk, yipped and ran over to sit at Rupert’s feet, tongue hanging out and tail wagging.

Gordo scrambled to stand and bow. “Your Highness.”

“Oh, hi Gordon!” Rupert smiled cheerfully at the guard and glanced briefly at Percy.

“Is this your dog?” Gordo asked.

“Oh, yes he is! I just got him for my birthday last week!”

“He’s so friendly! What kind of dog is he?”

As the two talked about dogs Percy realized that he was still sitting on the ground, face covered in dog slobber, mouth agape, staring at Rupert and completely unable to do a thing about it. He watched Rupert talk animatedly with his guard-partner and felt his heart beating in his throat. He would give anything to stand up right now and join their conversation, if only just to be able to talk to Rupert, to have him look at him and laugh at some witty joke that Percy would undoubtedly make. But he was frozen, sitting on the stony floor, like an idiot.

He watched helplessly as Rupert and Gordo said their goodbyes. Rupert gave Percy one last quizzical look along with a shy smile and wave before he and his dog disappeared back into the library. Percy felt like he was going to pass out.

Okay, so he might be a _little_ obsessed with the Prince.

Gordo kicked him lightly in the thigh. “You okay man? You hit your head or something?”

Percy snapped his mouth shut and jumped to his feet. “Of course not! I’m just fine! Perfectly okay! Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

Gordo shrugged, and the two set off again down the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been really fun to have been working for so long on this Percy backstory of him wanting to prove himself as a knight and then see it happen in the actual canon season 3 as well!
> 
> Please let me know what you think so far!
> 
> Next chapter maybe Percy and Rupert will talk to each other - mAAAAAyyyybeeee


	4. The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy has an angsty run-in with his dad, and gets a chance to talk with Rupert.

The West - 4 years ago

Wet hair clung to Percy’s forehead and dripped into his eyes. His boots gished in the mud of the training yard and more mud splattered his pants. Rain seeped into his tunic and ran up his arms as he swung his sword up and around and down into the practice dummy.

THUNK.

He didn’t care about the wet.

He turned and swung again.

THUNK.

He didn’t care about any of it.

He stepped back and swung again. And again, until his arms burned and his breath stung in his throat, but still he carried on.

Today was his day off from guard duty, from training, from all of it and he chose to spend it here alone in the practice yard, working himself to the bone, trying to perfect his swordsmanship. Never mind the dark storm clouds and heavy rain - he needed to _do_ something.

He had slept uneasily the night before, his dreams haunted by endless corridors that turned into mazes of bookshelves before he would inexplicably get his feet tangled in vines only to be helped up by a boy with soft hands and sparkling blue-green eyes. Rupert. His dreams always seemed to come back to Rupert.

Percy had awoken that morning feeling a strange mix of excitement, regret, and frustration. He was confused by most of it, except the frustration; he knew where that was coming from. He was frustrated with himself. Frustrated that he wasn’t doing as well in his knight training as his dad was so sure he would be. Frustrated that he couldn’t get the darn prince out of his head. Frustrated that he had no one to talk to about any of this.

Swing! THUNK. Turn, step, swing! THUNK. Sidestep, parry, swing! THUNK.

Percy found his rhythm and soon he no longer noticed the cold rain dripping down his neck, no longer noticed the burning in his arms and chest, and most importantly no longer noticed the thoughts churning in his brain as he focused intently on the hacked-up training dummy in front of him.

He paused for a moment, catching his breath, letting the tip of his sword sink into the mud as he leaned against the handle. He surveyed the damage he had done to the poor dummy.

Percy was startled by slow clapping behind him. He spun around to see his father standing there in the rain, a smirk smeared across his face, slowly applauding him. Percy stood up straight and tried to shake the mud off his sword.

“Nice form Junior. I have to admit I’ve had my doubts about you lately, but you seem to be making _some_ progress at least.”

Percy’s heart soared, it was the kindest thing his father had said to him in weeks. “Uh, thank you sir!”

“I’ve been worried about you Junior.” Sir Percy’s face turned into a worried frown, and Percy’s heart sank again when he saw the mockery hidden beneath the expression.

“You- you have?”

“Yes, you’ve seemed… distracted recently. That, in addition to your poor performance in the training yard, has had me questioning whether you’re really cut out to be a knight at all.” Sir Percy examined his fingernails, ignoring the way his son bristled in indignation.

“Of course I’m cut out to be a knight! I’m your son! I’m a Percy! It’s my _destiny_!” Percy’s chest heaved as he glared at his father. He had been working so hard and trying his best. Why wasn’t it enough?

The rain seemed to intensify.

Sir Percy grinned at his son’s outburst, baring his teeth. “Prove it.” He said simply, stepping over the fence and unsheathing his sword.

Percy stepped back to face his father, bringing his own sword up into first position.

“I trust you know how to spar with real weapons?” Sir Percy drawled.

“Of course I do!” Percy spat. In truth, Percy had only ever sparred with the wooden training swords, but he didn’t want to admit that to his father. Didn’t want to give him anything else that could call his validity into question. He felt nervous.

The two began to fight. Percy blocked some soft blows that the older man lobbed at him, but he was afraid to attempt any offensive moves against his own father.

“Come on boy!” His father cried as they circled each other. “I’m going easy on you! Fight me!”

Percy lunged and was easily parried. He lunged again and was blocked.

“You’re better than this Junior! Show me that you deserve to wield that sword!”

The rain came down in thick drops as the two continued to circle and fight each other. The exhaustion that Percy felt earlier was forgotten in his need to prove himself. The longer Percy went without getting a point against his dad, the more his anger and frustration bubbled up out of him. His movements became more and more desperate.

Sir Percy sneered as he deflected his son again, the force of it sending the teenager sprawling into the mud. “What’s the matter Junior? A _competent_ squire would have been able to get me at least once by now.”

Percy scrambled up and lunged at his father desperately, trying to hold back tears.

Sir Percy blocked him again. “Come on Junior! Hit me! What? Are you scared? Show me that you’re a real man and hit me!”

Percy watched his father from the other side of the circle. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, blocking everything out. He gripped the hilt of his sword, feeling the warmth of the handle against the blisters on his hands. He felt his feet as they found purchase in the mud. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, staring daggers at the man who had once ruffled his hair and told him what a proud father he was.

“My name isn’t Junior.” He enunciated slowly. “It’s Percy.”

With that he charged. Sword held high over his head, throat burning from the roar that was ripped out of his chest as he ran at his father. Sir Percy stood transfixed, a smug look of awe on his face as his son closed the distance between them.

It was then, with a mighty crack and thundering boom, that lightning split the sky open above them. Before Percy knew it, his victorious yell had turned into a terrified scream as his knees gave out and he dropped to the ground in fear.

Sir Percy loomed over his son where he cowered in the mud. “Pathetic.” He spat, before he turned on his heel and left the training grounds.

Percy let out a sob as soon as his father was out of sight. He knelt there shivering, rain falling heavily on his back as wet mud creeped up his arms and seeped through the knees of his pants. He finally pulled himself up and trudged home to his cold empty house. His father was no doubt out drinking with the other knights telling them what a disgrace his son was. He changed his clothes and thought about spending the rest of the day curled up in his bed feeling sorry for himself, but then he had a better idea.

* * *

Percy cautiously crept into the library through a back door.

He was mad at his dad and wanted to do something reckless, something he knew was against the rules. He knew his father would say something snide and condescending if he found out his son was going to the library, evidently to read. Knew he would be downright furious if he discovered Percy was actually going to see Rupert. And just what WAS Percy doing here anyway? Why did Rupert haunt him? What was it about him that made Percy want to know more, to get closer?

The library was warm and comforting, despite the storm still raging outside. He crept around the stacks of books and quickly found Rupert sitting at his usual table. There didn’t seem to be anyone else around. Percy hid himself behind a bookshelf. This was stupid. Why had he come here?

There was a bright flash of lightning and thunder boomed outside. The noise was so loud and intense that it rattled the windows. Percy let out a terrified shriek and fell to the floor for a second time that day, instinctively throwing his arms up to cover his head.

As he lay there in a heap, breathing hard, waiting for another strike, his father’s harsh words ringing in his ears, he felt something cold and wet nudge the back of his hand. He looked up to see the face of Rupert’s lanky black and white puppy. As soon as Percy’s face was exposed, the dog promptly proceeded to lick it eagerly.

“Uhg! Get off!” Percy sat up, wiping away the slobber and trying to push the dog away. What was it with this dog and licking his face?

However, undeterred by Percy’s disapproval, the dog sat itself down in Percy’s lap and panted happily.

Percy tentatively pet his furry back. He was soft and warm and heavy against him. He felt good. Percy sighed and started to relax.

“He’s good at that isn’t he?”

Percy startled and looked up to find Rupert himself sitting on the floor across from him, smiling gently. Percy panicked; this was not how he wanted the Prince to find him! This was not how he wanted _anyone_ to see him!

“He’s good at helping when you’re feeling scared.” Rupert added kindly when Percy didn’t respond.

“Oh, scared? Me? Haha! Oh, no I wasn’t scared.” Percy tried feebly to sound strong and sure of himself, but his voice squeaked. “I _am_ a future knight, after all. And everyone knows that knights are brave.”

Rupert hummed in dubious agreement and looked out the window pensively. “Doesn’t being brave mean that you do something even when you’re feeling afraid?”

“Well, yeah. Duh.”

Rupert turned back to Percy, a glint in his eye. “Then being brave doesn’t mean you don’t feel scared! It just means that you keep going even when you _are_ scared.”

Percy shook the panic-cobwebs out of his head. “No no, that can’t be right. Being brave means that you’re… strong and… and fearless!”

“Fearless? Like not having any fear?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s what I said.” Percy rolled his eyes.

“But if you were truly fearless, then I think that you would also be a bit of an idiot.”

Percy gasped. “How dare you suggest--”

“No, hear me out! Okay, say you’re a knight facing down a ferocious dragon.”

“Well, dragons don’t exist.” Maybe the other boys were right and the prince really _was_ crazy.

“And the dragon is breathing fire everywhere,” Rupert continued undeterred, “and your fellow knights are being turned into ash around you.”

“Ooookay?”

“What does the knight who feels no fear do? Probably run head on towards the dragon swinging his sword. Right?”

“Yeah, that sounds like what a brave, fearless knight _should_ do.” Percy quipped.

“But what does it get him? He runs in, sword held high, probably yelling like a dunderhead. And the dragon immediately turns him into a puff of smoke.” Rupert blew on his fingers for added effect.

“Well, I’m sure that--” Percy grasped for straws.

“But what does the afraid knight do? He looks around at his fellow men-at-arms and sees what’s happening and says, ‘I don’t want that to be me!’”

“Sounds like a sissy who would run away and leave his kingdom at the mercy of a fire-breathing beast. Not very knightly if you ask me.” Percy sniffed.

“Ah, but that’s where the bravery comes in right? The afraid but BRAVE knight says ‘I don’t want that to be me, I’ll find another way’ and he doesn’t go screaming into the flame, he sees the failings of the others that went before him and comes up with a new solution.”

“Which is?”

“Well, I don’t know – dragons don’t exist.” Rupert smiled playfully.

Percy huffed out a laugh despite himself. “Hmm.” He leaned back to think about it, letting his guard down a bit. “I bet he would sneak around the dragon and chop its tail off.”

Rupert relaxed back against the bookshelf behind him as well. “Hah! And then what? Wait for it to bleed to death before it turns around flames you? Rahh!”

“No way! It would be so distracted by the pain in its behind that I would have time to run around to the front and stab it in the heart of course! I’d like to hear how YOU would handle it Mr. Knows-Everything-About-Fighting-Imaginary-Dragons.”

“Hmm.” Rupert scratched his chin. “I think I would take some magical sneezing powder out of my pocket and blow it in the dragons face.”

“What! That doesn’t make any sense. Magical sneezing powder?”

“Well why not? If dragons exist in this scenario then why not magical sneezing powder?” Rupert grinned.

Percy couldn’t help but smile too. This was dumb but he was actually having fun. “Well okay then. Sounds like the dragon would start sneezing out fireballs and burn you up anyway! Poof! Percy: 10 Prince Rupert: 0!” Percy froze, he was just having fun, he didn’t mean to insult the Prince.

Rupert laughed as if nothing untoward was said. “Hah! I suppose I’ll just have to block the fireballs with my mighty shield imbued with special flame-resistant powers and send them bouncing back at the dragon!”

“Nah, that’ll never work.” Percy relaxed, really having fun now. “I think I’d charge in, but then run off and get him to chase me but actually lure him into a bog.”

“Hehe, that’s actually pretty good. I think I’d charge in and then challenge the dragon to a game of charades. (Little does he know I’m pretty much unbeatable at charades.)”

“Pfft!” Percy couldn’t respond he was laughing too hard. He finally collected himself. “I think I would probably open up a tea shop for dragons, invite the dragon inside, and then poison him with my poisonous death-tea!”

Rupert fell over on his side he was laughing. “That is…” He gasped. “… Utterly ridiculous!”

“Well I bet while _you_ were standing there laughing at me it was getting ready to chomp you!”

Rupert collected himself. “No way! I already would have distracted the dragon with a giant tree branch, and then uhhh… climbed onto it’s back!”

“Ooh yes! And then stabbed it in the head?”

“No way! I would have ridden on his back! Off into the sunset!” Rupert gestured widely with his hands, finally catching his breath.

Percy let out a burst of laughter. “I can see it now! The brave knight riding on the back of the dragon that he has _no control_ over _at all_ , while it torches all the villages on it’s way to the castle.”

Rupert giggled. “Well, at least it sounds like I would have some fun before the entire kingdom went up in flames!”

Percy wiped a tear from his eye and sighed, still chuckling. “You would go down in history as the worst knight ever.”

Rupert’s laughter died and he looked off to the side. “Yeah well. _Probably_ would anyway.”

That’s right. Rupert had _wanted_ to train as a knight but for whatever reason wasn’t allowed. It was obviously a sore subject.

Rupert’s dog got up from where he had been resting in Percy’s lap and went to nudge his head into Rupert’s leg.

“Hey Fitzroy.” Rupert smiled and pulled the dog close.

“So… uh…” Percy felt awkward. He had killed the vibe on the most interesting and entertaining conversation he had ever had. He knew they were both thinking of that day at the training yard. Percy longed to ask more about it, but felt that it would probably make things even more awkward. “So… your _dog_ is named Fitzroy?”

Percy kicked himself. He had just told himself that he _wasn’t_ going to mention it, and here he was bringing up the fake name that Rupert had used for himself that morning.

“Oh yeah. Haha.” Rupert rubbed Fitzroy’s head making his ears flop around. He seemed somewhat cheered as he looked into the dog’s face. “I kind of froze out there you know! Didn’t know what else to tell him! I had thought as far as the disguise,” Rupert looked back over to Percy and tapped his eye where he had worn the eye-patch, “but forgot that I would have to give them some sort of name! Although, I thought I didn’t do half bad under pressure, if I do say so myself – he let me in didn’t he?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Percy had no idea what he was doing. He wanted to know so much more about this boy. The Prince. He didn’t seem like a prince really, he seemed like a normal kid. A normal kid that sat here with him on the floor of the library telling him it was okay to be afraid and making him laugh in a way that no one else had done before.

Rupert seemed to be regarding him too. “You’re not like the other boys.” Rupert’s odd declaration seemed to be half question half statement. For a moment Percy was unsure if it was actually he who had just revealed his thoughts to Rupert. I guess they did make the odd pair.

Percy suddenly realized how vulnerable he had allowed himself to be with this other boy. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. He put his defenses back up. “Hah! Well I should think not! I _am_ a Percy and far better than all of them, just like my father, of course.”

“Hmm.” Rupert’s eyes narrowed on Percy for a brief moment before he looked back down at Fitzroy. Percy squirmed, the air seemed suddenly chilly.

Rupert seemed to be considering something before sighing and looking back up at Percy. Rupert smiled strangely. “Can I tell you a secret?” He whispered conspiratorially.

“Uh. Yeah. Sure?” Percy was confused. What was going on?

Rupert looked around them to see if there were any eavesdroppers. “I’m sneaking out. Next week.”

Percy didn’t know what to do with this information. It seemed very random that Rupert would suddenly change the subject to this. “You… are?” He replied, confused.

“Mmmhmm. I lost something along the edge of the forest, I’m going to go find it.”

“Why do you have to sneak out? Why not just go look for it?”

Rupert scrunched his face in frustration. “My mother would have a fit if she heard I had gone so close to the forest to lose it in the first place – no telling what she would do if she knew I wanted to go back.”

“I mean, everyone knows the forest is dangerous. Maybe she’s just trying to keep you safe? Seems reasonable to me. Just ask a guard or something to go find whatever it is.”

“Uhg! I knew you would…” Rupert grumbled incoherently for a moment. “Listen, I’m going okay? Midnight. In exactly one week from today. Do you want to come?”

If Percy had wondered if Rupert was crazy before, he knew it for certain now. The passionate gleam in his eye that he had worn that day in the training ground was back, but Percy had no idea why this boy with no skill in weaponry would want to go so close to the dangerous forest in the middle of the night, or why he would suggest that Percy, practically a stranger, go with him. But at the same time… what better quest for a future knight than to protect his prince on a dangerous mission? He made up his mind. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” Rupert grinned.

“Yeah.” Percy confirmed, feeling more confident about it now.

“Okay then.” Rupert got serious. “Meet me in seven days, at midnight, by the greenhouses. Wear black. Bring your sword.”

A thrill ran through Percy’s body. He was excited and a little scared. He would be breaking the rules, and helping Rupert defy the queen, but he was feeling reckless. “Yeah, okay. Yeah! I’ll be there.”

Rupert beamed then held out his hand across the aisle toward Percy. Percy regarded it for a moment before clasping it firmly. They both schooled their faces as they shook hands stoically. This was a serious agreement and required a serious moment.

It didn’t last. They both erupted into giggles as soon as they let go. It felt good to just laugh and be silly and not worry about anyone thinking he was weird or not tough enough or… whatever they wanted to think! It felt good just to be himself.

Percy sighed, wiping happy tears from his eyes for a second time that evening. He looked over to the window to see that it was still dark out, but the storm had stopped raging outside. “I should probably get going. My father’s expecting me home.” Percy rose and dusted himself off.

Rupert uncoiled himself and stood up too. “You doing castle guard duty again this week?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, see you around. Bye Rupert.”

“Bye Percy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: We check back in on present-day Amir in the forest


	5. Porridge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rupert and Amir are in the forest and Amir is less than happy with the way things are going on HIS mission.

The Forest - Present day

Amir’s bruised and battered legs hurt and he was tired. After the cave-in, they had had to walk for another hour in the slowly diminishing storm before they found a dry place to start another fire. Luckily, the thief seemed to know a bit about the flora of the forest – maybe there was some truth to his story about living here after all? The thief had recognized some roots as being edible and had found some type of wood that would light when wet that even Amir hadn’t known about. Amir was grateful for that. Then again, Amir wouldn’t be eating dirty roots right now if the thief hadn’t given the dragon the last of his rations.

The more time he spent with the thief, the more Amir was confused by him, and if there was one thing that Amir did not like feeling, it was confusion. Feeling confused meant that something didn’t make sense. And if something didn’t make sense then either Amir didn’t have all the information or he was too stupid to understand what was right in front of him. It made Amir feel helpless and unsure of how to move forward. It made him mad.

So what did Amir know about the thief? The thief had saved him back in the cave, but he’s a thief. He seemed trustworthy and kind, but he’s a Westerner. Sure, the thief had done some things that could be considered “good”, sure the thief had validated his feelings about loving dragons and made him feel like maybe he didn’t have to keep the silly or annoying aspects of his personality a secret, but the thief was obnoxious and weird, and generally made Amir feel nervous for some reason. All the same, the thief seemed like a decent guy.

Amir looked over to where the thief was gleefully tossing roasted root vegetables to the dragon. He started to realize that some of the lessons his mother had tried to instill in him may have been right. Particularly the ones about observing before judging. The realization didn’t help his mood.

Even though he knew it would have no effect on the forest, his mother had always been the one pushing to find a “diplomatic solution” to their kingdom’s rivalry with the West. Despite the history books and the stories his tutors and trainers told him about the West, she had always told him that “people have the ability to change” and that he should “give people the benefit of the doubt” or “learn the whole story before making judgements.” He had always rolled his eyes when she said things like that, but after meeting the thief he had started to question the things he had been taught by his other teachers and had taken as absolute truths. He was very confused.

He hadn’t been so confused before he met the thief. This was all the thief’s fault.

Amir wanted to hate him.

The thief picked a bit of char off the vegetable in his hand before taking a bite. "Mmm!” He hummed happily with his mouth full. “I know we should probably be suspicious of anything growing in this forest, but I have to say – these roots that we dug up aren't half bad."

Amir swallowed his own satisfying mouthful of warm tuber but scowled, he didn’t want to give the thief the satisfaction of agreeing with him. "Be careful.” He snapped “That's your tenth one. You're going to give yourself a stomachache."

“I know I know I know, but I'm _starving._ ” The thief said dismissively “I kind of don't even care that they taste like old shoes." The dragon squawked, demanding a bite. "Alright! Calm down, you can have more too." The thief smiled endearingly at the creature and tossed him another morsel.

The thief was either oblivious to, or choosing to ignore, Amir’s seething. It only served to make Amir crankier.

Letting this weird thief tag along on his mission was one thing – he needed him for his knowledge of the forest – but letting this baby dragon come along? That was another thing entirely. "How much longer is that _thing_ going to keep following us?" Amir said with as much venom as he could get away with without being downright pugnacious.

"Okay, first of all, he's not a _thing_. He's a _he_.” Amir rolled his eyes – the last thing he needed was a lecture on pronouns from a _Westerner_. The thief continued “And second, I didn't want to say anything before, but I'm pretty sure that this dragon thinks we're his mamas."

"It's what!?"

"Well, we were there when he was born, and we fed him, and I've kind of been playing fetch with him whenever your back is turned." At least the thief had the decency to look embarrassed by this last statement.

"What?! Fitz, I'm in the middle of a life or death quest! I don't have time to babysit a monster." How could the thief be this STUPID. Dragons were dangerous creatures. Everyone knew that. Encouraging the beast to follow them was just asking for trouble.

The thief leveled Amir with a stern glare. "Okay, well this _monster_ saved our lives. So the least we can do is take care of him until he's big enough to fend for himself."

How could anyone be so myopic? It’s not like the creature had saved them out of the goodness of its scaly heart. It was clearly just trying to save itself when it found that opening back in the cave, and it just _happened_ to have the effect of helping them get to safety too. Amir crossed his arms and returned the thief’s glare. "You mean until he's big enough to eat us."

"He wouldn't eat us! He loves us!” The thief didn’t rise to Amir’s tone. Amir wanted to argue with him. To get in a fight so that he could feel justified in disliking him. But he didn’t and that made Amir even madder. Instead, the thief ignored Amir’s fuming and lovingly scratched under the dragon’s chin like it was some kind of pet. Amir didn’t want to admit to himself how jealous he was that the dragon was so friendly with the thief. He _had_ always wanted a dragon as a pet. Or any kind of animal as a pet really...

While Amir was brooding, the thief had been talking to the beast, trying to decide on a name for it. Amir tuned back in at the end of his rambling list of possible names.

"… Porridge?” The thief raised his eyebrows when the dragon trilled happily. “Really? Porridge? Okay! I kind of meant it as a joke, but I guess we have a dragon named Porridge!"

Amir rolled his eyes. This was getting ridiculous. "You've got to be kidding me. We have the last known dragon in the entire world, and you want to name it after a breakfast dish?"

"It's too late now. We're calling him Porridge." The thief said decisively.

"No, we're not." Amir couldn’t even look at the thief sitting there with the stupid dragon in his lap, rubbing its belly.

"Amiiir! He likes it!"

Amir couldn’t take it. He snapped. "Then he's an idiot and so are you!"

As soon as he raised his voice the dragon pounced. It shot over to where Amir was sitting and bit him firmly on the hand. It wasn’t hard enough to draw blood, but definitely hard enough to leave a mark.

Amir yelped in pain and surprise, snatching his hand away.

"Porridge! No!" The thief chastised. The dragon backed away, snarling at Amir, its hackles raised.

"He bit me! Your stupid dragon bit me!"

"Calm down, it's just a scratch."

Amir bristled. How dare the thief tell HIM to calm down. Since the moment they met the thief hadn’t been treating Amir with the proper respect he deserved as a prince. Amir was sick of it. This was _his_ mission. _He_ should be the one calling the shots, _he_ should be the one making the decisions and deciding how things were done. Not some nobody thief for goodness sake. Amir was tired of not being in control.

He stood up and unsheathed his sword. "That's it, I'm not going to let this _thing_ jeopardize my mission."

The thief sprang up to stand between Amir and the dragon. "Woah woah WOAH! What are you doing?"

"Get out of my way."

"No!"

"I said get out of my way!"

"NO!” The thief took a step forward. The look of fiery determination on his face was enough to make Amir falter and take a step back. “I don't care if you're a prince, or a king or the great wizard who made the universe! You don't get to be a bully just because you're in charge or you didn't get your way! Now put that sword away or I swear to _Merlin_ I'll lead you in circles so long you'll be one hundred and TWO before you reach the Hollow!"

Amir was taken aback. No one had ever spoken to him like that. And as much as he didn’t want to admit it, the thief was right. He had been a bully. And to make matters worse, he had been acting exactly the way he always promised himself he wouldn’t – he had been acting like his father. Selfishly. Trying to get a rise out of the other boy to justify hating him. To justify fighting with him. All because of Amir’s own insecurities. The thief wasn’t the source of Amir’s frustrations, but Amir had been using him as a scapegoat since the moment they met.

Amir lowered his sword. "I… I wasn't actually going to hurt it…"

"Yeah, well you could have fooled me. And Porridge.” The thief stood down, but crossed his arms over his chest and fixed Amir with a steely glare before looking around in a panic. “Wait, where is Porridge?"

They both looked around in alarm. There was an undignified screech from the treetops and they looked up to find the dragon sitting on one of the high branches, still glaring at Amir.

Amir studied the tree in confusion. "How did it get up there?"

"His wings must finally be working!” The thief ran to the base of the tree to yell up. “It's okay boy! You can come down! No one's going to hurt you!"

The dragon gave a disbelieving squawk.

The thief rounded back on Amir. "Okay, now look what you've done - you've hurt his feelings! You need to apologize."

"What? Why?"

"Because. Words have consequences. Now do it!"

Amir huffed. "I don't believe this.” He rolled his eyes and stepped forward, squinting as he tried to pick out the little red dragon hiding in the branches above him. “Sorry okay? Sorry I hurt your dragon feelings. Now please come down before you alert every creature in this forest to our exact location."

"That wasn't very sincere." Amir could practically feel the thief’s eyeroll.

"Well what do you want from me?"

"I want you to say something nice. Give him a compliment!" He said as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

"Are you kidding me?”

"You. Circles. A hundred and two." The thief jabbed his finger at Amir with every word.

Amir sighed and rolled his eyes again. "Fine!” He gave the thief one more glare before turning to look back up at the dragon. He wracked his brain for something to say. He thought about his childhood reading stories about dragons and imagining having a dragon of his own one day. He thought of the day his mother told him that dragons weren’t real and that he needed to spend more time on his studies and less time indulging in stupid fantasies. He thought of the awe he felt in the cave when they found the dragon’s egg. Of looking across to see his own wonder and excitement reflected on the thief’s face. He cleared his throat. “You're… you're a very cute dragon. You're cute! And loud and…” Amir realized that his head was still filled with the image of the thief smiling at him back in the cave. He shook his head to bring himself back to the present. To the scared dragon hiding in the tree. “… and you've got really sharp teeth!” The thief chuckled. Amir blushed. “And I'm sorry I raised my sword to you. I've had a really difficult couple of weeks. And I'm hungry, and tired, and my leg hurts, and on top of that I'm really worried about my mother but… I'm a prince. And there's no excuse for cruelty. And it's the first thing that _my_ mother taught me and I'm ashamed by how quickly I've forgotten that lesson since coming to this forest.” Amir looked over at the thief. He was smiling proudly at Amir. It made Amir feel proud of himself. He knew he was doing the right thing. He looked back up at the dragon. “So, if you could find it in your heart to forgive me, I'd really appreciate another chance to be the prince my mother would want me to be. To be the prince _I_ want to be."

The dragon – Porridge – crowed happily and leapt. Its wings just barely caught the air and he half-fell, half- glided down, barreling right into Amir’s chest. Amir caught him, stumbling and falling backward, but laughing as Porridge gleefully licked his face.

The thief looked down at them fondly. "Looks like somebody forgives you. Mama"

"Huh.” Amir thought for a moment before looking up at the thief. “You are the strangest person I have ever met."

"What do you mean?" The thief smiled.

"I mean… I can't figure you out.” Amir scratched the head of the dragon sitting happily in his lap. “You're a thief, but you defend dragons. And when I was trapped in that cave you saved my life. You didn't have to. You could have left me. You _should_ have. But you didn't. You stuck with me."

"I mean, that was, that was nothing." The thief blushed and kicked the ground.

"No, it was something.” It was hard for Amir to admit to not understanding something. But sharing his thoughts with the thief felt like a weight being lifted off his chest. Amir pushed Porridge off his lap and stood to better address the thief – Fitz. “I guess what I'm trying to say is: thank you. Thank you for saving my life. And if after tonight you want to leave me I won't stop you. But I'm hoping… I'm asking you to stay."

To Amir’s surprise, Fitz looked sad for a moment before smiling again. "Wow, you're a lot nicer on a full stomach."

Amir chuckled. "Yah, my mom says that ALL the time."

Fitz considered Amir for a moment. "Well, apology accepted.” Amir smiled. “So,” Fitz continued. “if I get you to the Hollow, do you really think you can break the curse?"

Amir nodded determinedly. "I know I can."

"Alright, then that's what we're going to do. You and me. Together"

Amir stuck out his hand. "Shake on it?"

Fitz gasped in feigned shock, mocking Amir’s previous aloofness. "A prince? Shake hands with a thief!?"

"Yeah, sorry about that." Amir felt embarrassed by how arrogant he had been, but was glad that they could laugh about it now.

"That's okay.” Fitz reached out and clasped Amir’s hand firmly. “Put 'er there partner."

Fitz’s hand was soft and warm and felt good in Amir’s own. Amir cleared his throat, shook once, and let go. "Well, technically we're colleagues."

Fitz rolled his eyes, still smiling. "Okay."

"… And I'm still in charge."

“Okay."

"I mean, you still work for me – I’m your boss."

"Got it. Wow, way to step on a moment."

They laughed as they sat back down at the fire where they spent the rest of the evening sharing the stories they’d read about dragons and trading theories on how they thought the dragon egg had come to be in that cave, while Porridge practiced his flying by chasing sparks from the fire into the sky. Amir let himself relax for the first time in as long as he could remember. He realized that while there were a lot of things about Fitz that still mystified him, he no longer felt frustrated or mad about his situation. He was glad to not be alone.

* * *

Whatever Rupert had expected to find in this forest when he set off alone into its dark and dangerous depths – it wasn’t this. Finding a real live dragon was one incredible thing. Sitting by a fire talking about dragons and books with a stranger (who was coming to feel like less and less like a stranger every moment) was another. There was so much about Amir that reminded him of Percy. He tried so hard to be tough and to have all the answers, but inside he was a scared boy who just wanted to be himself.

Not for the first time, Rupert wished that Percy was there with him. Although, he knew if the other Westerner _were_ there, there was no way he’d approve of joining Amir – an Easterner. But Amir knew how to break the curse in the Hollow, and Rupert knew that he needed to be there too. They needed each other. It only made sense to work together. Besides, Amir didn’t seem so bad.

Rupert was ashamed that when he had first met Amir his initial reaction had been to assume all the terrible things he and Percy had ever heard about Easterners, despite the fact that he had never before met anyone from the East. But if there was one thing that Rupert loved, it was the feeling that there was more to know, more to figure out, more to learn. He found he was enjoying his time getting to know the other prince, even if he could be bossy or micromanaging at times.

Anyway, there was no use wishing Percy had come with him into the forest. He knew Percy would never step foot back in this place again. Not after that first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Amir with all my heart and I love thinking about what might be going on in his head during season 1. I saw that someone else published a season 1 from Amir's point of view fic, that I can't wait to read, but am holding out until I finish my own take on it here...
> 
> Next week Rupert and Percy embark on a quest!


	6. A Quest! (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rupert and Percy head off in the middle of the night on a quest to the edge of the forest to find something that Rupert lost.

The West - 4 years ago

Percy paced back and forth in front of the greenhouses. Where was that stupid prince anyway? How had Percy let the other boy talk him into coming out here on this silly quest to go to the edge of the forest? A week ago, in the Library, Percy had felt excited at the thought of sneaking out and doing something rebellious, but now that he was here (and the chill of the night was creeping in at him) (and the prince was nowhere to be found) he was having second thoughts.

At least sneaking out of the house without his father noticing had been easy. His dad had been paying him so little attention lately that Percy wondered if he could have just walked right past him and out the front door. He bet his dad wouldn’t have even looked up from his drink. Still, Percy had left a boy-shaped pillow-lump under his blanket before putting on a black outfit, grabbing his sword and climbing out through his window, just in case.

It was looking like he would be climbing back in through that window again soon if the Prince didn’t show up. Served Percy right for listening to that crazy prince anyway. Percy decided to give him five more minutes. What kind of man was the Prince if he couldn’t show up when he said he was going to? Percy knew all about what it took to be a man. It was hard not to, growing up with his father. He knew that a good man was strong, serious, unerring, and _always punctual_.

“Pssst!”

Percy whirled around. Startled by the sound of someone hissing at him. Rupert was leaning out the door of one of the greenhouses, beckoning him over. Had he been in there the whole time?

Percy looked furtively around to make sure they were alone before dashing in after Rupert.

“Where have you been?” Percy demanded as soon as the door was shut. “I’ve been waiting out in the cold!”

“I know! I’m sorry! I was here, I saw you, but I had to wait and make sure.”

“Wait for what? Make sure of what? You said meet by the greenhouses at midnight and I was there right on time!”

“I know but… I had to make sure that you came by yourself. I wasn’t sure if…” Rupert stopped and looked down, kicking at the dirt.

“You weren’t sure if what?”

“I wasn’t sure if you had told my mom or your father that I was sneaking out tonight. I had to make sure there weren’t a bunch of guards out there ready to drag me back into the castle or something.”

“You thought I was a spy?” Percy snorted.

Rupert shrugged noncommittally. “Why else would you come talk to me in the Library? The other boys think I’m weird, or sick, or my mom scares them away. I figured you must have some sort of ulterior motive.”

Percy was dumbfounded. He thought _he_ had it rough with his father and the other kids – trying so hard to be the person they all wanted him to be in order to be accepted. But here was this other boy who couldn’t even _interact_ with anyone his own age without wondering if it was all a trick. Percy wasn’t sure how to respond. How could he tell Rupert that he didn’t have any ulterior motives when he himself still didn’t know why he sought Rupert out in the Library that day in the first place? “Well, I don’t know – I guess I was bored of those dimwits at the training ground and figured you’d probably be at least a _little_ more interesting.” Percy internally winced at his flippant tone. He wanted so badly to tell Rupert how much their conversation in the Library meant to him, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t put himself out like that and risk being laughed at or shunned. “But I promise I’m not here because my father told me to spy on you. In fact, my father…” Percy stopped himself from saying that his dad had told him to stay away from Rupert. “… Well, my father doesn’t even know that I snuck out too. So, we’ll both be in trouble if we get caught.”

Rupert chuckled. “I won’t tell him if you don’t tell my mom?”

“Deal.” They smiled at each other. “Soooo… What were you doing in here anyway?” Percy said, breaking eye contact when he felt a blush creep across his cheeks. He looked around now at the lush greenery surrounding them. It was like they were standing in a different world.

“You never been in here before?” Rupert asked, amused.

“No.” Percy said tersely, putting his guard back up. “Why should I?”

Rupert gestured around him like the answer was obvious.

“I don’t get it. It’s just a bunch of dumb plants.”

Rupert gaped at Percy in shock. “What? No! They’re beautiful and amazing. See this one right here?” Rupert lifted his hand under a delicate spray of tiny green leaves. “It has these little luminescent flowers that only bloom under the full moon. Should be just a few more days. And this one?” Rupert crossed to an ugly purple plant with large hairy protuberances. “It uses these little hairs to attract, capture and EAT bugs.”

“A plant that eats bugs?” Percy found that he was actually kind of interested now.

“And see this one?” Rupert rushed excitedly to a medium-sized plant with leafy vines that spilled down from the table to the ground.

“What does that one do?”

Rupert rubbed a thumb over one of the leaves lovingly. “It doesn’t do anything, but I think the way the veins in its leaves whorl around is so pretty. I could look at it all day.”

“You spend a lot of time in here when you’re not in the Library?” Percy crossed his arms and tried to appear unaffected, but he looked around with a new appreciation for what he was seeing.

“Not that much.” Rupert shrugged before ducking behind one of the tables for a moment, coming back up holding a small potted plant. “Mostly I come in here because of this.” He said, beaming with pride, extending the plant out for Percy to see.

Percy didn’t see anything remarkable about the small twig sticking out of the dirt, a few heart-shaped leaves clinging to it. “Oookay? What’s up with this one?”

“I planted it myself! I’ve been taking care of it for a few months now. I grew it from a cutting I took from one of the plants at the edge of the forest.” Rupert wiggled the leaves of the little plant as if they were hands waving hello to Percy.

Percy was struck again by how strange the Prince was but found the action oddly endearing.

Percy tried to suppress a smile before changing the subject. “Speaking of the forest… Are you done stalling? Should we head out? Or are you _scared_?”

“Oh no, I’m definitely scared.” Rupert said, putting the plant down thoughtfully. “But we’re brave, remember?”

Rupert grabbed a small bundle of things from the floor and passed Percy on his way to the door. Percy realized that this was it, they were about to head out of this warm safe greenhouse and out to the edge of the dark dangerous forest. Just the two of them. And he the only one with a weapon. He felt afraid.

Percy swallowed. “Brave.” He confirmed, trying to sound it.

They stepped cautiously out into the night.

Rupert led them through the castle grounds toward the outer wall as Percy followed, keeping a lookout for anyone who might spot them. The night was quiet and devoid of life but every now and again they saw a guard or two and quickly hid until the threat had passed. Percy had to admit – the thrill of it was actually kind of fun and exciting.

Percy noticed that Rupert wasn’t leading them toward any of the heavily fortified doorways or portcullises in the wall, but to what appeared to be a decrepit and un-used flight of stairs leading up to the top of the ramparts. Percy hoped that Rupert’s plan didn’t include scaling them – they looked like they were about to collapse. Thankfully, as they approached the stairs, instead of putting his foot on the bottom step, Rupert led them around and underneath.

That’s where Percy saw the crack. As far as cracks went, this one was pretty big – large enough that 6 feet above the ground, a sizeable chunk of the wall was simply missing and he could see right through to the field beyond. Percy doubted, however, that it would be big enough for anyone larger than a 14-year old or soon-to-be-14-year-old boy to squeeze through.

Percy wondered why a crack of this magnitude hadn’t been repaired. Maybe it wasn’t a high priority because it was too small for an Eastern soldier to slip through? Or maybe no one knew about it because it was hidden by the stairs on the inside and the other side was nothing but a large field of grass, and beyond that – the Forbidden Forest.

“How did you even find this?” Percy asked, a little in awe.

Rupert looked embarrassed for a moment before turning to look up at the crack. “I have a lot of free time.” He said simply. “Now come on, the guards making their rounds on the wall won’t be back on this side again for a few more minutes. We’ll have time to cross the field if we hurry.”

Percy didn’t let himself think about what was waiting for them on the other side of that field. He moved forward to offer Rupert a hand getting up to the gap, but to his amazement Rupert took a running leap at the wall, pushed one foot off a lower edge of the crack and caught the rough sides of the gap with his palms. He lifted himself up and wedged his shoulders into the narrow opening before turning around and offering a hand to Percy.

Percy momentarily assessed the situation. If it were anyone else offering him that hand, he would see it as a thinly veiled commentary on his short stature. If it were anyone else offering him that hand, taking it would be tantamount to admitting to being weak and un-able to fend for himself. But it was Prince Rupert offering him a hand, and Percy knew that he was offering it because he genuinely wanted to help Percy up, and he knew that by taking it he wasn’t admitting to being a failure, but instead accepting that it’s okay to get help sometimes.

Percy grasped Rupert’s hand and scrambled up into the gap in the wall.

Once they had jumped down on the other side, they hung back for a moment to make sure there were still no guards on this section of the wall. Percy found himself frozen, gazing with an un-impeded view at the terrifying black mass of forest only a couple hundred yards away. He felt utterly exposed.

His hand involuntarily gripped the handle of his sword. At least they were just going to the _edge_ of the forest, he reminded himself. Just going to dash over there, find Rupert’s lost trinket or whatever, and then dash back. The monsters lurking in the forest will hardly have a chance to reach out and grab them. Unless they did… in which case…

Rupert nudged him. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah! Of course I’m fine.” Percy’s voice cracked, and he coughed to try and somehow cover it up.

“Okay.” Rupert squinted at him as if he didn’t really believe him but chose to move on. “So, like I was saying…” Rupert started slowly, clearly repeating something that he must have said while Percy was busy contemplating his own mortality. “There’s a path of stones in the grass leading straight from here to the edge of the forest. Keep low and follow me, but if for some reason we lose each other in the dark just keep following the stones. Ready?”

“Let’s do this.” Percy tried to sound more confident than he felt.

Rupert gave him one more appraising look then nodded before pushing off the wall. Percy crouched and followed him through the tall grass. He was glad that Rupert told him about the stones, because he lost sight of the other boy several times as they made their way across the large field. It would have been easier if they could walk upright, but they stayed low so they wouldn’t be seen. The stones were small – the biggest he saw was about the size of his fist, but they were easy to see sitting neatly on top of the ground at even intervals. Percy had to wonder if they had been intentionally placed by someone.

Just as Percy’s thighs were starting to burn from crouching, he found himself tumbling out of the relative safety of the grass into the scraggly edge of the forest where not much grew except a few sparce saplings. Percy noticed that the stone trail continued on into the darkness of the forest.

The forest. It loomed over them dark and oppressing. Even though they stood on the edge, it seemed to be closing in around them. Every nerve in Percy’s body was on high alert. There was nothing he wanted more than to turn and run as far away as he could. This was not a good place. He felt a shiver go down his spine. This was a very bad place.

Percy gulped and looked over at Rupert. He was somewhat relieved to see that the other boy looked just as terrified as he felt.

Rupert looked up at the forest and edged a bit closer to Percy. “This is uh…” Percy saw him take a breath and force himself to look away from the ominous mass of trees and vines. “I’m glad that I’m not here alone this time.” Rupert smiled sadly.

Percy couldn’t help but return the timid smile. “Yeah, well, uh…” He coughed awkwardly into his fist. “So where is this thing that you lost? What does it look like? Let’s find it and get out of here.” Percy started looking around on the ground, trying to see if anything shiny caught his eye.

“It’s not here.” Rupert said ruefully.

Percy looked up to see Rupert’s pained expression as the other boy turned back to look into the forest. “What do you mean it’s not here?” Percy demanded. “You’ve barely even looked. What was it anyway?”

“A pitchfork.” Rupert said so simply that Percy thought he must have misheard.

“I’m sorry, a what now?”

Rupert turned back to Percy, looking downcast. “A pitchfork.”

“Like… the kind that they use in the stables?”

“Yes.”

Percy was in disbelief. This was it. The final evidence that Rupert was truly and factually crazy and that Percy should have never for one second believed otherwise let alone let himself be tricked into coming out here. “Rupert. Why… What… How…” He tried to figure out what he could possibly ask to make any sense out of this situation. “Was it made out of gold or something? Why in the world would you want to come out here in the MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT to find a PITCHFORK??”

Rupert looked at Percy. His face serious. “Listen. Exactly one month ago I came out here and stuck a pitchfork into the ground right on the very edge of the forest. I climbed through the same gap in the wall, followed this same trail of stones that I had placed one month previous, and wedged it so firmly into the dirt that there would be no way for it to come out on its own.”

Somehow, Rupert explaining this to him left Percy with more questions and an even deeper sinking feeling that Rupert was out of his mind. “So… someone came by and took it.” He said reasonably. “And why did you make a trail—”

Rupert cut him off. “No Percy. No one took it. The forest grew _around_ it.”

“What? That’s ridiculous. It’s only been a month. How could the forest have possibly grown so much?”

“Percy, last month, when I followed that path and placed that pitchfork, the path was 20 stones longer. The edge of the forest is moving. It’s advancing.”

“Advancing.” Percy said incredulously, crossing his arms over his chest. “Like some sort of army of vegetation.”

“Yes. Exactly.” Rupert said, ignoring Percy’s tone. “It’s a theory I’ve had for a while now. I just needed a way to test it. This forest is growing at an incredible rate. But no one else seems to have noticed it!”

“Well” Percy chuckled dismissively “If no one else has noticed, then I really doubt—”

Rupert interrupted Percy again, raising his voice. “No one else is paying attention! But I _have_ been, and once I take this evidence back to my mother, she’s sure to have people look into it. There’s just one more data point I need. And only one way to get it.”

“What’s that?” Percy asked, suddenly nervous.

“We need to go into the forest.”

“What! No. Nonononono. I thought we were just going to come to the _edge_ of the forest, kick around in the dirt for your little lost thingy, and then go. But you want us to go in _there_?” Percy gestured wildly at the forest looming next to them. “You want us to go into a dark, dangerous and completely uncharted forest??” Percy was nearly hysterical.

“It’s the only way.” Rupert said regretfully. “We have to find the pitchfork to figure out how far from the edge it got in a month.”

“Why?” Percy huffed. “You already said that the path was 20 stones shorter. You don’t need to go IN to figure out how much it’s grown.”

“Well, see, I kinda do. And it comes down to the other theory I have that I want to test.”

“Uh huh. And what’s that?” Percy crossed his arms. He had almost had quite enough of the Prince’s little “theories”.

Rupert eyed him, looking hurt and unsure. “You know what? No. It’s fine. You can just go if you want.” Rupert turned away decisively and knelt to start untangling the bundle he had brought with him.

“What? No. It’s dangerous. You’ll be unarmed.”

Rupert didn’t turn around to address him as he pulled the end of a rope out and started tying it around the trunk of a nearby sapling. “Then leave your sword or something if you’re so worried about me. But you clearly don’t want to be here, and I don’t want to force you to be. I’ll be fine on my own. I’ve been on my own my whole life and I’ve gotten this far. I’ll be _fine_.”

Percy bristled at being dismissed by the Prince like this. Didn’t he appreciate how much he had already done for him? Didn’t he appreciate how much he was sticking his neck out for him? Didn’t he appreciate how much he was risking in terms of his standing with the other boys and his father by simply hanging out with him?

Fine. Percy didn’t need this. He turned his back on Rupert and the forest and looked back across the field at the castle walls. All he needed to do was dash back across and through the gap and he’d be back in the light and warmth and safety of the castle grounds. He’d sneak back in through his window and tomorrow he would forget all about the crazy Prince and go back to focusing on his training. Go back to learning all he could so that he could one day defend his country and show everyone that he was every bit as brave and strong as his father was.

Percy stood up straight an squared his shoulders. Yes. This was the right thing to do. At least that’s what he tried to convince himself.

Behind him, he heard Rupert sniff and then quickly cough to cover it up. He looked back to see the other boy trying and failing to rub two sticks together to make a flame, evidently to light a torch that he brought with him.

Percy sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to leave. He knew he probably should. Knew that this was stupid and dangerous and made no sense. But he didn’t want to leave Rupert. Rupert was his friend.

Rupert was his friend.

The thought rang in his head. Rupert was his friend and even though Percy didn’t understand him he didn’t want Rupert to do this alone. He wanted to go with him to protect him. To support him. To be with him.

Percy knelt down next to Rupert and took the sticks out of his hands. Remembering a trick his dad had taught him on a father-son camping trip a few years back, he made quick work of rubbing the sticks together to create a small flame. He fed the flicker until it was just large enough to light the torch with.

Rupert looked on in amazement. “You didn’t have to do that.” He said quietly.

“I know. But I thought we’d need a little light to see by in there.” Percy smiled shyly.

“We?”

“Yeah well. I figured I’d come along. Someone needs to watch out for you, and it may as well be me. I _am_ a future knight after all.”

Rupert laughed.

“Besides.” Percy took a breath and forced himself to push aside his haughty persona and just be honest for once. “You don’t have to be alone anymore. I’m your friend, so you have me now.”

Rupert’s eyes shone brightly in the torchlight as he looked across at Percy. “Thank you, Percy. I’m glad to be your friend too.”

Percy looked into Rupert’s earnest blue-green eyes and knew that he had made the right decision. He stood up and handed the torch to Rupert before getting his sword out. “You ready?”

“Ready.” Rupert said, holding up his bundle of rope, one end trailing behind him to the sapling growing at the very edge of the forest. “Stay close?”

Percy grabbed Rupert’s hand and the two boys plunged into the dark unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rupert: “You just didn’t want to give me your sword, did you?”  
> Percy: “Are you kidding? Of course not. You’d hurt yourself immediately.”  
> Rupert: “Maybe you’ll have to teach me sometime.”  
> Percy: “Oh my gosh, so needy! Fine I’ll teach you.”
> 
> Sorry to leave you on a bit of a cliff hanger, but the next chapter is a big ball of spaghetti right now and it's going to take me and my beta reader a little longer to comb out all the tangles. I expect I will NOT be able to get it out to you by next Saturday but I will publish it as soon as it's ready. If you click the "subscribe" button on the top of the page you'll get an email when I publish it :)
> 
> Also, guys, I'm really proud of how this chapter turned out. It has gone through so many re-writes which has been very frustrating for me, but I think the frustration has payed off and I'm really proud of the pacing and the character development. Please leave me a comment if you're enjoying this story!

**Author's Note:**

> Current (as of November 28, 2020) completed chapter buffer: 0.25 (I have most of the next chapter in a rough draft, but I won't have it ready for next Saturday's update. I'm sorry guys! Hang in there!)
> 
> I will try to update every Saturday, but can't promise much, especially if I deplete my buffer. Please subscribe to this story if you want to get emails when I add a new chapter :)
> 
> Please comment and let me know if you're enjoying it so far - even a "<3" will completely make my day!


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